


We Don't Choose Our Vices

by Paranoixa



Category: 21 Jump Street (TV)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Criminal/Law Officials, M/M, Secrets, Sexuality Crisis, Toxic Relationships, Undercover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-28
Updated: 2017-10-28
Packaged: 2019-01-25 14:30:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12533752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paranoixa/pseuds/Paranoixa
Summary: Harry's assigned to date Zeke, a man suspected of murder and statutory rate, to garner enough evidence to arrest and prosecute him. Somewhere along the way, though, the lines between criminals and law officials blur, and Harry starts to fall for him. But there's a reason Zeke's the prime suspect in this investigation, and, soon enough, Harry finds himself trapped in a relationship mirroring that of Zeke's past victims.





	We Don't Choose Our Vices

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so this is just a quick thing. Not sure if this is gonna develop into a real story.

From a professional standpoint, it was a relatively simple assignment; a run-of-the-mill "befriend the suspect until something slips" assignment, nothing he hadn't done countless times before. Of course, this suspect was being accused of statutory rape and multiple counts of first degree murder, so the assignment hadn't had much potential to begin with.

Harry sighed, glaring at the empty glass in his hands, and turned around. A few tables across from him, Doug and Dennis were talking to a pair of girls, freshmen, if the incessant giggling and shy head ducking was anything to go on. Doug looked up, found Harry's eyes on him, and rose an eyebrow. Harry shook his head and nodded to the empty seat in front of him. Doug smirked, shrugged, then turned back to the girls.

Harry picked up his glass and examined it inattentively. He'd been sitting at his table for nearly an hour now, and no one had approached him. And he wasn't necessarily surprised. He'd been assigned the "nerd" character again, and, at Judy's insistence, he'd really settled into the character: black, clunky glasses, a freshly-ironed Star Wars shirt, a pair of khakis that barely reached his ankles, shiny, black dress shoes, and his hair greased to a sharp point. The ensemble was utterly ridiculous, almost too ridiculous, but if the empty seats surrounding him were any indication, maybe it was just the right amount of ridiculous.

He'd just decided to join Judy at the counter when the seat beside him scraped against the floor. The man moving the tall, steel chair held a hand up in apology before scooting it back farther and taking a seat beside Harry.

"Um", Harry drawled, blinking owlishly. "Hi."  
"Hey", the man smiled. "I've never seen you here before. You new?"

Harry pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and gave the man a quick lookover: 5'9, blue eyes, brunette. He certainly fit the profile. "Uh, yeah", he said. He cleared his throat and offered the man a small smile. "Me and my folks just moved in a few days ago. I haven't had much time for anything aside from unpacking and stuff so..."

"Well, you're here now."  
"Right. I'm here now."

The man took a sip of the glass in his hand, and Harry eyed it curiously. It looked like chocolate milk topped with whipped-cream. His eyes momentarily shifted to his empty glass before turning back to the man's cup. He rose an eyebrow at Harry, then lowered the glass from his lips.

"Ah, sorry", Harry said, shaking his head. "I just...what is that?"  
"This?" He held the cup up in front of his face and regarded it with such high esteem that Harry flushed nearly from his ignorance. "This is an egg cream."

Harry stared at the drink dubiously. "An egg cream?"  
"I know. I said the same thing when I first heard of it. But it's better than it sounds. Trust me", the man continued when Harry remained quiet.

Harry crossed his arms, uncertainty etched across his features. "What's in it?"

The man tapped his fingers against the linoleum surface of the table, and Harry found himself enraptured by the rhythmic sound as the man hummed to himself.

"Imma level with you. I ain't entirely sure. But I'm 90% certain no egg or cream's in here." He stirred the drink for a moment, then pushed it towards him. "Here. Have a taste."

Something stirred in Harry's stomach, and red flags appeared in his peripheral vision. In front of him, Doug sat, recounting some ridiculous story or another to the two girls. His eyes were on him, though, and he seemed to pose a silent question while simultaneously entertaining his audience: Everything okay?

Harry shook his head and turned back to the man beside him. "That's okay. Look, I was just going to go. My, uh, cousin's waiting for me with his friend, and I've kept him waiting long enough."

The man smiled and nodded. "Okay, but before you go, just take a sip. I promise, it'll be worth it."

Harry tugged at the collar of his shirt, and his eyes flickered back to Doug. He'd stopped talking, letting Dennis get a few words in, and his eyes were concerned. He waved at him, then turned back to the man. The stirring in Harry's belly intensified, and the hairs on the back of his neck stuck up as he said, "Sure." He accepted the egg cream from the man and took a few sips, internally wincing at the scenarios flickering behind his eyes and how unexpectedly sweet the odd drink was. His eyes flickered closed, and he gave a hum in satisfaction.

"Good, right", the man chuckled, watching as the egg cream slowly disappeared.

"Mm." Harry sat the now half-empty glass on the table and wiped his arm over his lip. "Thanks."  
"No problem. " The man extended his hand. "I'm Zeke, by the way."

Harry gripped his hand softly, and Zeke gave it a light squeeze. "Harry. Nice to meet you."  
"And you as well." Zeke draped his arm against the back of his chair and gave him a long, scrutinizing look-over. "Can I...see you again?"  
Harry's eyes widened.

Oh.

"Uh, sure." His face turned a soft shade of crimson. He shuffled his feet and hugged his arms close to him, and he could only partly blame the gestures on the need to further project his character.

"Good", Zeke said. "Same place, Friday at eight?"

"Okay. Can't wait." Harry stood, pushed his chair in, and nodded at him. Zeke gave him a small salute, then turned back to examining his egg cream. His heart beating frantically, Harry walked towards Doug and Dennis's table and cleared his throat. The girls looked up and scowled.

"Can we help you", the one sitting in between Doug and Dennis asked sourly.

"Yeah", the other one added. "We're kind of in the middle of something."

"Relax, ladies", Doug objected. "That's my cousin you're talking to."  
"Cousin", the first one asked, her expression incredulous. "But not blood cousins, right?"  
"From my veins to my aortas to my brain, sweetheart. What's up, Harry?"

Harry sighed and ran a hand over his face. "I'm kinda tired. I think I'm just gonna call it a night."  
Dennis looked up, ignoring the squawk of dismay from the girl clinging to his forearm. "Already? It's only six."  
"I know. I'm just not feeling up to it, I guess."

"You okay?"  
"Yeah, I'm fine. Just need a little sleep", Harry said. He smiled, ignoring the concern and suspicion within their eyes, and started towards the entrance of the shop. His left foot had just made it past the threshold when a loud, sharp whistle pierced the air. He froze for a moment, listening as the entire shop seemed to hush. He imagined Zeke's lax figure leaning against the table, watching him with soft, predatory eyes as he exited the shop, and shivered.

The noise had just picked up again when he'd let the door slam shut behind him, but his ears were still ringing too much for him to notice.


End file.
